


What Good Am I?

by princessmelia



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Bromance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Male Friendship, Triumvirate, mckirk - Freeform, mckirk friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-24
Updated: 2014-01-24
Packaged: 2018-01-09 19:59:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1150172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princessmelia/pseuds/princessmelia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being a surgeon was a tiring job. Being a full-time doctor was worse. Being both to a full crew in space was awful. Being the friend of two self-sacrificing idiots was draining. Leonard Horatio McCoy was all of them, and he was exhausted.</p><p>At a time when McCoy is at his worst, Jim comes in to help him out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Good Am I?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LadyFeste](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyFeste/gifts).



> For my good friend, Lady Feste Pendragon.

Bones was tired.

No, tired wasn’t the right word—he was exhausted.

Being a surgeon was a tiring job. Being a full-time doctor was worse. Being both to a full crew in space was awful. Being the friend of two self-sacrificing idiots was draining. Leonard Horatio McCoy was all of them, and he was exhausted.

Not that he would complain about it. McCoy stuck to grumbling and bemoaning the normal, mundane things like making sure Kirk ate healthy and that Spock got enough “Vulcan-rest”.

If either one of them or, in most cases, both of them went on a mission, Bones didn’t sleep well, if at all. How could he when at any moment his friends could beam aboard injured or sick? They would need him right away. That, of course, was the reason he should’ve been sleeping. A well-rested surgeon was better than a fatigued one, but he couldn’t help it. McCoy had been a father for a long time – worrying was what he did best.

At the ceremonies Bones stood back with the rest of the crew. He didn’t deserve the applause like his friends did. First Kirk and Spock, the true heroes. Next Uhura and Scotty would take the stage with Sulu and Chekov following soon after. All the while, the announcer would be reading off their brave acts in battle: saving the ship, outwitting the enemy, rescuing victims—they’d done it all. They were the Bridge Crew of Starfleet’s dreams.

And McCoy stood dutifully in the back clapping along with everyone else. What had he done to share in their praise? He was afraid of space, had to take his own medication to get through the anxiety. And the one time Kirk had tasked him with being the hero he had failed. What good were surgeon hands if he couldn’t adapt them to save the day? He had almost killed himself and the woman who ended up saving them both.

He was no hero. He was hardly the side kick of heroes. He was a divorced man, an absent father, and a failure.

One night, McCoy collapsed backwards onto his bed, the empty bottle of brandy crashing, but not shattering, onto the ground beside him. He threw his arm over his face and tried to stifle the tears that were leaking out of his eyes.

He’d nearly lost Chekov on the table earlier that night, only sheer determination on the kid’s part keeping his heart beating during the operation. What could was a surgeon if he couldn’t do his own damn job right?

The quiet swish of his cabin door opening was accompanied by the voice of Jim Kirk. “Bones, I’ve got to—“ The voice stopped and McCoy was ashamed to think of what his captain was seeing: his CMO, presumably drunk if the bottle on the floor was any indication, crying on his bed like a small child missing his Mama.

And so Bones did what he always did—he put on the mask.

“Dammit Jim,” he groused as he sat up, “haven’t you ever heard of knocking? It’s something that us civilized people use to give other their privacy.” He scrubbed at his eyes, trying to banish the tears and their evidence.

When Kirk continued to only stare, McCoy rambled on, trying to fill the silence. He wished Jim would leave. Or at least yell at him and tell him how worthless of a CMO he was. Anything would be better than the quiet.

“If you need me for surgery or to wipe someone’s nose because they got the sniffles, you’re gonna need M’Benga.” He rose from his bed, only slightly unsteady on his feet. “I’m off duty for the night.” McCoy brushed past Kirk and opened the door, an obvious gesture of “get-out”. But when Jim turned towards the door, he only continued to study McCoy’s face. The timer on the door ran out and it slid shut again, filling the cabin with its quiet noise.

“What?” McCoy finally asked, irritation evident in his voice. The way Kirk was staring at him made him uneasy. No one had looked that close at him in ages. “What do you want?”

Kirk licked his lips, an almost involuntary response at the sudden sound, and seemed to be at a loss for words. McCoy would’ve been proud of himself if he weren’t so edgy. “How long have…?” The question died on his lips. “I mean, when…?” But the words didn’t want to form. Jim’s eyes were soft and he seemed desperate, almost… miserable. He took a step forward, arms open like he meant to embrace McCoy, but the doctor took an immediate step backwards, freezing Kirk in his place. “What happened Bones?” Jim whispered fiercely, and McCoy knew he didn’t just mean that night.

“I don’t know,” McCoy replied, his voice thick with unshed tears. It wasn’t the truth. He knew exactly what had happened—he wasn’t meant to be on the Enterprise, wasn’t meant to be best friends with the notorious Captain James T. Kirk. But seeing his friend’s face now, he couldn’t admit that. Not any of it. And Jim’s very presence was tempting his will power to keep it all in.

Determined, he harshly pushed his way past Jim and went to his desk, keeping his back to the captain. “You should go Jim.”

“I’m not leaving.” The indignation was present in Jim’s voice.

“Yes, you are.” The words were meant to be menacing, but they only came out weak with tears. “Jim Kirk can’t fix everything.” Those words were met with silence and McCoy knew he had struck a nerve. One more and he may be able to get Jim to leave for the night. “Shouldn’t you be off with your XO anyway?”

“Is that what this is about?” McCoy’s face scrunched up. He’d hit the wrong nerve. Couldn’t he even get his friend to leave without screwing that up too? “Bones, you know—“

“No, that’s not what this is about!” McCoy shouted. It was too much. Something had snapped, and he couldn’t rein it in any longer. Spinning, he turned to face Kirk head on. “This is about the fact that I’m not on the legendary Bridge Crew. I’m not meant to be there. I shouldn’t even be on this goddamn ship! I’m a coward in space, not fit for my job. Why the hell do you even keep me on? All I do is a crap job of patching you and Spock up after you two have risked your lives for everyone. Again. And you save them all. Again. And then there’s me. I fail at everything in my life: my marriage, my daughter, my father, my job, my friends…” McCoy turned away quickly and sat down heavily in his chair, not wanting Kirk to see the hot tears running down his cheeks.

“Bones…” Jim’s voice was full of pity. McCoy hated it.

“Just leave, Jim.” His voice was soft. “Please.” It was a small plea, and McCoy could hardly believe it was his own voice.

“I hate to break it to you,” Jim sat down in the chair across from him, “but I give the orders around here.” The words would have normally been arrogant, but there was a subdued nature about them. Kirk was being unusually serious, and it was the softness of his voice that grabbed Bones’ attention.

McCoy glanced up at Jim and could see from the stubborn expression on his face that his friend wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon. Letting out a long-suffering sigh, he leaned back and crossed his arms, staring across the desk at Jim. He felt like he was looking across an impassable gulf. “Fine. What do you have to say?”

Having earned McCoy’s full attention, Jim seemed at a loss as to what to do with it. The moments of silence dragged on once more and Bones was surprised to find hope leaving him. He wasn’t even aware he had begun to hope again.

“That’s what I thought,” he sighed out warily, almost to himself. “What can the Golden Captain say to the likes of me?”

“Stop that.” Kirk’s eyes were hard, like flint just struck. “You are not worthless, Bones. You are my best friend.”

McCoy raised an eyebrow. “Am I? What about Spock?”

“Dammit, Bones, a man can have more than one best friend! What is this, high school?” When McCoy didn’t answer, Kirk took a deep breath and relaxed back into his chair. “I mean it though. I couldn’t be captain if you weren’t here. You’re one of the few people who still call me Jim. And you’re one of even fewer who isn’t afraid to call me out on my bull crap.”

At that Bones had to let out a small chuckle. “You do make some stupid ass decisions, Jim.”

The laugh brought a smile to Jim’s face. “I know I do. And the only reason I get to make them is because I know have a top-notch doctor ready to patch me back up when I get back. Spock thinks so too, you know. I can’t tell you how many times he’s allowed us to risk our necks just because the odds of you being able to fix us has been high enough to meet his standards.”

McCoy blinked and glanced at Jim. “He said that?”

“Course he did.” Jim tilted his head in puzzlement. “Spock thinks you’re the best doctor in the fleet. Didn’t you know?”

“No. I-I didn’t know that.” McCoy had to look away, lest he start to cry again. He hadn’t known his friends had counted on him so much.

“Bones.” Jim leaned over the desk and McCoy looked up to make eye contact with him. “It wouldn’t be the Enterprise without you. It wouldn’t be home. _You_ are important here. You matter. Hell, without you, _I_ wouldn’t even be here right now.”

A sheepish look passed over McCoy’s face. “It was Spock who—“

Kirk’s waving hand dismissed Bones’ words. “Sure, Spock chased Khan down. But without you, there would’ve been no blood left over to save me. You figured out that there was a cure to be found. And it was you who put the formula together in the end. It would’ve taken Spock weeks to put the correct chemicals together.”

“He said that?” McCoy was skeptic of the Vulcan admitting any fault, but especially one that but Bones’ skills above his own.

“He did.” Jim nodded in confirmation. “So please, don’t ever think you’re worthless. You’re my best friend, and I wouldn’t trade you for anything.”

It took McCoy a few moments to process Jim’s words, but soon somewhere deep inside of him rang with the truth. He was cared for here, he was valued, he was loved. There was a sudden shift as his heart settled into the right place, and McCoy felt, for the first time since he held his little girl in his arms, content. He smiled and it seemed to put Kirk at ease. “Not even for a kiss with Carol Marcus?” Bones teased easily, feeling how good the familiar drawl felt coming out of his throat.

“Well, perhaps,” Jim responded with a small shrug and a relieved smile at the jest. They both stood and met beside the desk in a friendly embrace. “I’m sorry Bones. I should’ve been paying better attention to you.”

“It’s okay. You’ve got a whole crew to look after.”

“So do you,” Kirk replied with a friendly pat on the back before pulling away. “It’s good to have you back, Bones.”

“It’s good to be back.” His smile was wide and genuine for the first time in months. Thinking back on their earlier conversation, he added, “Jim.”


End file.
